Plot Bunnies Unleashed
by Gimme-Chan
Summary: New Chapter! Another chapter of Drabbles That Went No Where. Including Knock Out/Breakdown, Jazz/Prowl, Ironhide/Prowl.
1. From the Sideline 1 of ?

_Ok, I have a TON of little plot bunnies running around here. So I decided to feed a few of these plot bunnies and see what becomes of them. Most are just simply one shot stories that I couldn't stretch into a longer story or they just didn't fit into other stories I have. So please, enjoy! And thanks for reading!_

_Reviews, comments, concerns, shoot...even ideas, are always welcome! :)_

_------- _

_Warning!! Contains some slash! Don't like slash or yaoi, please don't read. You've been warned! Thanks!_

_This little plot bunny followed me home from the TF_Bunny_Farm over on Live Journal._

_Jazz/Prowl/Surprise _

_Also a touch angsty....._

_--------_

_"Vorn" = about a year,_ "_Decacycle" = about 1 week, "Cycle" = about 1 day, "Orn" = about an hour, "Breem" = about a minute _

"Hi."- normal talk

_Hi_ - unspoken thoughts.

------

**SideLine**

He had worked with Prowl for a long, long time. Maybe that's what made him think he knew Prowl better than most. Made him think he understood how the logic based bot functioned. Looking back over all the time they'd known one another, he couldn't think of a time when he didn't like Prowl. Not as anything more than a dependable colleague of course....at first... But many bots will tell how they seriously disliked the SIC when they first met him. He was too strict, too rigid, too uptight , too formal for many mechs to warm up to. And a lot of times, Prowl was all those things. But none of that had ever bothered him, he liked Prowl, just as he was.

They worked together often enough and yet, he found himself making excuses to seek Prowl out. To have him look something over or enquire Prowls opinion on an issue. A touch selfish on his part as he knew Prowl was a busy mech but he rarely indulged in selfishness, and as Prowl was often over looked by just about every other mech, then perhaps his interruptions were not really that intrusive to Prowl...maybe they were even a little welcomed.

Prowl was an attractive mech. He had a grace all his own. One needed only to watch him to see it in how he moved. The way he walked, the nod of his head, the subtle hand gestures his used when he was explaining tactical strategies, the way he'd bring up his hand and rest his chin on it or absently stroke a thumb over his bottom lip when he was in deep concentration, and his doorwings.....well, who couldn't appreciate those. He could admit he had fantasized about gently trapping one of those doorwings in his hands, soothing the captured panel with caresses and kisses before pulling Prowl into the waiting circle of his arms.... But that was just one of many late night pre-recharge fantasies. Something to be quietly indulged in, by himself, then safety tucked away in his processor.

He had heard the whispers. There were several versions of the rumor flying around but all versions contained one constant....after all this time, Prowl had acquired a lover. But he didn't know who. He wasn't devastated, just simply hurt. No ones fault but his own, and truly he shouldn't have been as surprised as he was. He found Prowl attractive and captivating, why wouldn't another mech? Somebot was bound to see what he saw and, unlike him, this mech made a move. He didn't want to site cowardice as the reason he hadn't approached Prowl. He wanted to site reasons like; they worked together too much or their ranks or job duties would get in the way. Really he'd been scared of Prowls flat out rejection. Because once Prowl knew the truth there was no taking it back. And most of all, he didn't want to ruin or lose a friendship he truly valued.

Prowl, being Prowl, had not breathed a word of his affair to anyone and his lover seemed to be following the same rule. Apparently, they were found out when Prowls lover had been sighted leaving Prowls quarters....far too early in the morning to be work related. He couldn't sound too interested in the rumors, so it ended up taking him all of two cycles to find out who Prowls lover was. He wasn't sure what to think when he did. He had nothing against the mech, he was a good bot. But he couldn't help but wonder if Prowl was simply lonely. Simply taking up an offer because an offer had been made. Prowl had been without any mates or lovers for many, many vorns now. The war and work had become his life, this new lover was most likely just an enjoyable break from it all.

It probably wouldn't last much longer now. Prowl, being the work obsessed mech he was, was bound to tire of the affair or drive the mech off with his work obsessed ways. And when Prowls current fling did come to an end, perhaps he would make his feelings known. Maybe it was time to bear his spark to Prowl and offer something more realistic, more permanent.

Cycles turned into decacycles and Prowl was still with his lover. They no longer hid it. That is to say Prowl would openly walk beside his lover and sit by his lover in the rec room....like they were now. Sitting across from one another, playing a game. During which, from time to time, Prowl would give his lover a soft subtle smile. One you'd miss if you didn't know to look for it. Before Prowls lover came along, he had been solely privy to those smiles, not that Prowl didn't still smile at him. It just didn't feel the same...or maybe he just didn't like sharing Prowl.

He watched them and felt a pang in his chest...or was that jealously? Jealous that tonight when he returned to his quarters he'd lay down on a cold berth, alone. Whereas Prowls lover got to warm Prowls berth, two passion warmed bodies that would lay together in comfortable entanglement. He'd be left to his fantasies, fantasies he knew could never compare to the reality of actually having Prowl. Prowls lover, on the other hand, could touch, stroke, caress, and kiss Prowl as he wished, no fantasies necessary.

He silently watched them, never letting on that he did so, from the doorway of the room as one prepared for a mission. Prowls lover nodding at Prowls many soft spoken warnings (if Prowl had spoken any softer he wouldn't have been able to hear a word of it from the doorway). Prowl wanted him to be safe, to pay attention to plans especially the resent details he had marked down, and if all pit broke loose he was to get out of there as quickly as possible, but most importantly, he was to come back alive. The mech simply grinned into Prowls stern face (so few would dare!) pulled the tactician into a hug then a short intense kiss before telling Prowl everything will be just fine and made his exit. He waited a few breems by the door frame before entering the room.

Prowl worked at the monitors, look over various scans of many areas. No doubt burying himself in work so worry had no chance to settle in his processor. Prowl paused for a moment as he entered the control room, his foot steps were no doubt familiar, so Prowl continued on working. As he checked over reports and signed off on this and that, he eventually made his way to stand by Prowl.

"Is everything in order?" he asked.

Prowl nodded, "Yes and if all goes according to plan they will be returning in 5 orns."

He sighed and nodded, "Good……good."

Prowl looked over at him, "Is everything alright?"

He paused for a moment before slowly starting, "Tell me. How does it feel-" he was looked down, mindlessly running finger tips over a monitors screen. He couldn't look at Prowl just yet, he knew his optics held emotions he didn't want Prowl to see, "-to be offered comfort? Not just being the protector but being the protector......and being assured that everything will turn out fine?"

Prowl stared at him for a few moments.

He risked a quick glance at Prowl, "I'm sorry. I overheard you and...and....and before he left he told you everything will be just fine. I don't get to hear that, it is more my place to say it and try to assure it. Its good you have someone to say it to you."

Prowl regarded him of a moment before speaking, "Optimus, do you disapprove of my relationship with Jazz?"

_Yes._ "No, Prowl. Not at all. If you want to be with Jazz, I see no wrong in it. I think you should do what makes you happy."

Prowl gave Optimus one of those rare smiles before turning back to his work. Optimus lingered, watching over him.

_That way, Prowl, at least one of us will be._


	2. Experience Required

Reviews are always appreciated :)

I know it's been awhile since I've posted anything! I have several stories in the works and half finished, just pressed for time to sit and write them out....works eating up all my free time!! But I got this done! :)

**Contains slash, mech on mech, yaoi, whatever else you want to call it, so if ya don't like those things please don't read! Thanks!**

This bunnie came to me while I was walking about the TF Bunnie farm.  
This was a fun one to write cause I've never seen anyone do anything with Blaster/Prowl. And really if you think about it, Jazz and Blaster are very similar.......and yeah, it was just an excuse to write some smut! XD

Prowl/Jazz, Blaster/Prowl, Blaster/Prowl/Jazz.....maybe....just alittle...

**Some dubious consent on the Blaster/Prowl aspect**

"Vorn" = about 1 year, "Cycle" = about 1 day, "Orn" = about an hour, "Breem" = about a minute  
-------------

**Experience Required**

**-----------**

Blaster looked him over again.....and still didn't see whatever it was his best friend saw in him. He shook his head, "I'm sorry, Jazzman. I don't get it....I just don't see it."

"See what?" Jazz inquired over his drink.

Blaster motioned to the only other black and white in the room, "I don't see what you see in 'em, man. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's easy on the optics 'an all but there are lots of bots that fall under that category that aren't up tight, rigid, rule lovin', killjoys like Prowl."

Jazz just grinned into his drink as he took a sip. They've had this conversation before.

"Heh, yeah....but I like my Prowlie."

"But what do you SEE in him!?" Blaster was practically pleading. He never would have thought wild, free spirited Jazz would tie himself down to a mech as boring and uneventful as Prowl. Prowl never did ANYTHING exciting! He worked and....and....yeah, he worked! That was it! Blaster had thought it was a phase, some kind of strange 'I'm gonna interface with the most boring mech I can possibly find' phase. And he really believed his friend was out of his processor when Jazz came to him, so giddy and happy he could barely restrain the grin that threatened to split his face in two, and had confided in Blaster that he was madly in love with Prowl. Blaster didn't get it then and he still didn't get it now.

At the moment, he and his long time friend were relaxing over a cube of high grade in the commons area. Prowl sat at a table, facing them, some distance away hunched over data pads working. And even though this evening he and Jazz had had fun regaling tales of what one or the other had been up to in recent vorns, Blaster suspected what Jazz had really been doing was giving Prowl some time alone. Blaster was sure any breem now Jazz would swirl what was left of his high grade in the cube, toss it back in one swallow, "collect" Prowl, and head back to their assigned quarters....like he always did when Prowl was with him.

Jazz chuckled at him and shook his head, "Ya don' get it, Blaster. It ain't about what ya see or don' see with Prowl."

Blaster arched a brow ridge, "Then what's it about?"

Jazz grinned, "Its about…experiencing Prowl. Once ya experience Prowl, it all comes together, and ya get it....'an then ya want some more."

Blaster looked at Jazz with bewildered confusion, "Experience Prowl? What exactly does THAT mean?"

Jazz laughed out right, "Don' worry 'bout it, Blaster. Don' worry 'bout it."

And there it was, Jazz swirling what was left of his drink. He quickly downed the cubes contents and stood.

"I'll check ya later, Blaster. Have a good recharge, man." Jazz patted Blaster's shoulder as he walked by to throw the empty cube in the receptacle then made a beeline for Prowl.

Blaster sat back and watched as Jazz walked up and stood behind Prowl, if Prowl noticed Jazz was near him he didn't show it. Jazz stood there for a moment, looking down at the furiously working mech, before engaging in one of his favorite activities....draping himself over Prowl. He lay against the curve of Prowls back, snuggling himself in between doorwings, his arms draped over Prowls shoulders, hands coming to rest against his chest plate as Jazz leaned his helm into Prowls. Not once did Prowl even bother to acknowledge him, face tight in concentration, optics focused on the data pads before him, Prowl didn't even stop writing as Jazz made himself comfortable on his back. Jazz turned his head so his lips were pressed against Prowls audio, murmuring privately to him as one of Jazz's hands moved to lightly run fingertips over Prowl chest plate in little patterns

Whatever Jazz had whispered to Prowl worked as Prowl saved his spot on the data pad and moved to stand. Jazz peeled himself off Prowls back and stood back as Prowl, face as devoid of emotion as ever, stood gathering his data pads in a neat stack then turned to walk with the saboteur out of the commons area, passing Springer as he entered. Upon spotting Blaster, Springer walked over to him and took the seat Jazz had recently vacated. Seeing Blaster was a bit distracted, Spring turned his head to look in the direction Blaster was looking, both of them watching the two black and whites retreat down the hall.

Springer gave a rather undignified snort, drawing Blasters attention, as he shook his head, "I'd still love to know what dirt Prowl has on Jazz." Then Springer stood and went to get himself some high grade.

Blaster looked down at his own cube of high grade. Prowl having dirt on Jazz, that was his and Springer's little joke. A mean one really, to suggest Prowl would have to resort to blackmail to gain a lover but one they had laughingly come up with one night while drinking a little too much high grade and pondering Jazz and Prowl's, at the time, new relationship.

Of course, Prowl would never blackmail Jazz like that. It wasn't that Jazz didn't have skeletons in his closet or that Prowl didn't know about them, or that Prowl was above blackmail. Prowl had used blackmail a number of times in the past to keep mechs in line. The twins and Smokescreen could attest to that. But Prowl blackmailing Jazz to be his lover....never happen.

Still, the joke had been amusing, still kinda was, even after Blaster and a small crew had paid a visit to Prime's base and he got to see the two black and whites interact. Blaster had expected Prowl to show off, at least a little, the fact he was berthing with Jazz to let bots know Jazz was taken. After all, Jazz had many admirers. But that didn't happen. In fact Blaster noticed that Prowl didn't seek Jazz out at all. It was Jazz who was constantly seeking Prowl out and doing just about anything he could to get his attention, leaning against Prowl, touching him, caressing a doorwing, or running his fingers down Prowls back. A few times, Jazz had even pushed Prowl to the point Prowl ordered Jazz out of the room. If anything, it was Jazz who seemed intent on letting everyone know that Prowl was his.

Blaster sighed and got up just as Springer sat back down, "Hey, where ya going?".

Blaster shook his head, "I'm tired....and my processors achin'".

Springer shifted around in his seat as Blaster started toward the door, "Hey! You on communications tomorrow?".

Blaster turned back toward Springer, "Naw, Magnus pulled me. I'm workin' the loading bay with Prowl. Magnus thought he'd need an extra hand goin' through the crates and checklists and volunteered me."

Springer gave a grimace, Prowl and checklists meant long boring laborious work, he shook his head distastefully, "Sucks to be you".

Blaster sneered back, "Thanks Springer, your sympathy toward mah plight is appreciated."

Springer simply raised his cube to take a drink, "I'm just glad its not me."

Blaster shook his head and waved a hand at Springer, "I'm out", and turning around walked out of the commons area back toward his quarters. He better get rested up, working with Prowl always made for a long long shift.

Blaster set every alarm he had, internal and external, to make sure he got to the loading bay ahead of shift WITH his data pad and stylus in hand thus eliminating any lectures or comments (or write ups) Prowl might bestow on him should he show up for his shift as little as an astrosecond late and unprepared.

And Blaster was quite pleased with himself when he walked into the loading bay a whole twenty breems earlier than when his shift was suppose to start. Only to stop as he saw Prowl was already there....working on what looked like his third data pad and crate (as two data pads lay on top of two crates, Prowls way of indicating those have been done). Primus! Did the mech fraggin' recharge in here!?

"Mornin' Prowl!", he greeted the stoic mech cheerfully, after all this was his best friend's mate and Second in Command, if nothing else Blaster would be friendly and respectful toward him.

"Good Morning, Blaster." Prowl monotoned back at him as he continued to write though his optics flicked to the clock on his data pad, "You're here early."

Blaster leaned against a nearby crate giving Prowl a dazzling smile, "Well, I wanted to impress ya."

Prowl made a noncommittal noise, not even bothering to look up.

Blaster leaned forward on the crate, his smile ever so charming, "So....are ya impressed?"

Prowl arched a brow ridge and gave Blaster a rather bland look, "If you have to ask...."

Blaster had to laugh at that, who knew Prowl could be witty? Blaster tilted his head in the direction of the numerous crates, "Where ya want meh ta start?".

Prowl looked through a few data pads he had before pulling one out and handing it to Blaster, one of his fingers tapped by number on the pad, "The number on the data pad," he relinquished the data pad to Blaster before pointing out the corresponding number on a crate, "matches the number on the crate. Once you've finished inventory and everything's there that should be, sign off on the data pad, place it on top of the crate, then come get another."

Blaster nodded, "Yes, Sir!"

They had started going through the crates fairly early in the morning and now, over 12 orns later, they were STILL going through crates. They were going through medical supplies, all medical supplies had to be rechecked at least twice and unfortunately it seemed a large majority for the supplies Prowl and his team were taking back with them were medical supplies thus lengthening their time spent on each crate.

At this point Blaster was starting to get a little tired and as he glanced over at the other mech, he was a bit surprised to see a rather tired looking Prowl, which was unusual for the tactician who tended to smooth everything away behind a blank mask of indifference.

Blaster stopped working for a moment, "Ya look tired, Prowl."

Prowl paused a moment before continuing on with his checklist, "I am. I was foolish enough to let Jazz keep me from getting all the recharge I needed last cycle."

Blaster let out a snicker as he went back to his checklist, "Jazz bein' demanding 'an keeping' ya up, Prowl?"

"Not in the way your thinking. Jazz was in a mood for games, we played chess."

"Chess? I can see that. I'm guessin' ya don't like video games so much."

"Its not that I don't like video games, Blaster, I believe they can be...fun...on occasion. However I don't play them with Jazz because Jazz has a habit of cheating."

Blaster immediately stopped what he was doing, he and Jazz played video games many times over the computer systems and most of the time Jazz won. Blaster straighten and looked at Prowl, "He cheats?".

Prowl nodding, still going through the crate in front of him, "Yes, he does. He goes out on the internet to these human sites and collects codes he can enter into various games that give him advantages. For instance, those fighting games you two play, he has a list of codes that he can enter before his player is hit that will lessen the damage to him and codes he can enter before hitting his opponent that will maximize damage done to them."

Blaster frowned, gripping his data pad in irritation, "That little fragger! All those frickin' games we've played! He'll kick my aft and then say 'Looks like ya need ta practice more, Blaster. Ha ha ha.' when he's been cheatin' 'an enterin' codes the whole time! When I get my hands on him...."

And it was here that Blaster was privy to a sound he'd never heard before. A fairly quiet, enjoyably smooth sound that sent a pleasant tingle through his circuits. Prowl was laughing.

Then Prowl turned to him...smiling, "Oh come now, Blaster. We both know Jazz doesn't work hard, he works smart. Be it missions or video games."

The fact Prowl was smiling at him and laughing openly was probably a strong indication of just how tired Prowl really was. Still, Blaster just stared back in near awe. Because as he looked on, he couldn't seem to stop himself from finding laughing smiling Prowl quite a turn on, he even felt his systems heating up a touch. Prowl was still talking to him but the words were lost, all Blaster could hear was Prowls smooth amused tone, so different from the bland monotone voice he usually spoke in. Blaster drank it in, struggling with himself to keep from purring with pleasure.

"Blaster. Blaster? **Blaster**?"

Blaster jerked out of his trance, "Huh?"

Prowl was still smiling, that delicious inflection still so audible in his voice, "Are you finished?" Prowl indicated to the data pad in Blasters hands.

Blaster looked down at it dumbly, "Oh! Yeah....yeah."

Blaster quickly signed off and set the pad on the crate. He walked the short distance to were Prowl stood to get another. Standing there next to Prowl, he leaned against a crate, optics sweeping over Prowls gleaming paint job and tantalizing curves as he spoke. For the first time in many many many vorns, Blaster felt a touch jealous. Jazz had this Prowl all to himself. Jazz got to see and interact with smiling amusing, admit ably, sexy Prowl all he wanted.

Leave it to Jazz to so easily pick up in Prowl what everyone else passed by or overlooked...like he had. Blasters optics swept back up Prowls form, coming to rest on Prowls mouth, watching his lips move as he spoke, captivated. They looked soft and Blaster was overcome with the desire to touch. Blaster ran his glossa briefly over his own lips, sending a small thrill through him as he wondered what it would feel like to do to that to Prowls mouth.

Jazzs words from their last conversation drifted to the forefront of his processor. _"Its about…experiencing Prowl."_  
Blaster shivered, a pleasant surge coursing through his system at the thought of just how 'experiencing' Prowl would feel. A few more moments of looking down at Prowl as he smiled and spoke in that pleasing tone, of knowing they were alone, of knowing it was late and no one would come bothering them....

Poor Prowl didn't know what hit him. Didn't even have time to react before two black hands adorned by red arms encircled his shoulders, pulled him tight against a yellow chest plate just as lips met his in a sound kiss. Prowls optics went wide as he struggled against the larger mech quickly dropping data pad and stylus to use his hands to break free from Blasters grip with no avail. Prowl tried to push the mech away and back up but his feet only slid uselessly against the smooth metal floor.

Blaster hummed in pleasure, marveling at how soft Prowls lips were against his, so smooth and warm. He moved his mouth against Prowls, the pleasurable sensations spurring him on, glossa darting out to play along Prowls lips, giving Blaster a small taste of him. He wanted more, Blaster wanted to taste Prowl thoroughly, explore him.

Turning quickly, throwing Prowl off balance, Blaster proceeded to back a stumbling Prowl against a wall, pinning him there with his body. As Prowls back met the wall he let out a startled gasp, giving Blaster the opening he was looking for. Glossa invaded and Blaster moaned as he moved his body against Prowls. Primus, Prowl tasted good!

Wanting more Blaster pressed himself hard against Prowl, his arms relinquishing their firm hold. Black hands smoothed across white shoulders, trailing down Prowls sides till they reached his doorwing joints. Blaster fingered along the joints for a moment, ignoring how Prowl tensed, before running his hands out and over the warm metal panels of Prowls doorwings, not letting so much as an inch go untouched.

Prowl writhed between Blaster and the wall, the sweetest little moans and whines escaping his vocalizer. Blaster grinned into the kiss, doorwings were fun! Blasters systems revved, with every new little sound and movement Prowl made, Blaster wanted more. His hands came back the doorwing joints, fingers running teasingly over them before pressing his fingers deep into the joints as he had seen Sunstreaker do to Bluestreak when Blaster had accidentally walked in on them. Prowl arched against him, hands clutching at Blasters arms, fingers digging into plating, as Prowl savagely broke the kiss flinging his head back, his passionate cry echoing in the loading bay.

Blaster watched through narrowed lust filled optics as Prowl shook, panted, and squirmed against him. The more Blaster moved his fingers within the joints, pressing against and stroking very sensitive wires and nodes, the more Prowl would writher and moan. Blaster couldn't help the grin that spread across his face plates, Prowl was gorgeous like this.

He leaned down brushing his lips against Prowls panting mouth, moving his fingers as he did, causing Prowl to half whimper half moan as he arched his back into Blasters hands, "Ya like that, Prowl?" Blasters lips nipped at Prowls as he spoke making the tactician shudder in his grasp.

Prowl moaned, "J...J-Jazz".

Blaster chuckled as he looked down at Prowl, enjoying it when Prowl shivered again, "Did you just call me Jazz?" Blaster leaned down to kiss Prowl again.

"No, he called me Jazz."

Blaster whipped around, dragging Prowl with him, to face none other than the Saboteur himself who was leaning against a crate a little ways away, "Let 'em go, Blaster."

Blaster hugged Prowl to him a little more, "But Jazz...he's enjoyin' himself." He moved his fingers again making Prowl moan.

Jazz shook his head, "Blaster, let 'em go."

"Awwww, come on, Jazz. We've shared lovers before. Share Prowl with me."

Jazz shook his head again, "Ain't my call, that'd be up ta Prowl."

Blaster grinned, "I think Prowls fine with it."

"Let 'em make that decision when your fingers ain't pressed up in his joints."

"Come on, Jazz, this could be fun."

Still shaking in Blasters grip, Prowl looked pleadingly over his shoulder at Jazz.

"I mean it, Blaster, let 'em go."

"But Jazz-"

"Blaster...ya gonna get yourself in trouble."

Blaster smirked, "Heh, I don't think Prowls in a position ta -"

"I meant with me." Jazz looked intently at Blaster through his visor.

Blaster hesitated before reluctantly easing his fingers from Prowls doorwing joints. As soon as Blaster did, Prowl jerked from Blasters grip and stumbled away, turning his back to both mechs. He visibly trembled, hands clenched at his sides, his doorwings, drawn back, nearly shook.

Blaster looked at his back beseechingly, "Awww, don't be like that, Prowl. I didn't mean any harm."

"Leave." Prowl spoke the word in an icy low pitched tone.

Blaster reached out for him, "Prowl-"

Prowl looked over his shoulder to glare at the Communications Officer, "Leave now or I'll throw you in the brig!" The words were ground out.

Blaster backed away, holding his hands up in defeat, "O...Ok. I'm leavin'...right now." Sighing, Blaster turned around and heading out of the loading bay.

Jazz stood for a moment watching Prowls back as he continued to tremble, his vents cycling harshly. Jazz started toward his mate, "Prowl, don't be mad. That's just Blaster bein'-"

Prowl whipped around, grabbed a hold of Jazz and practically tackled him to the ground. Jazz didn't even get a sound out before Prowl linked his arms around Jazzs neck and capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. Jazz remained shocked only for a moment before responding in kind.

Moving so he was straddling Jazzs hips, Prowl slipped his arms from around Jazzs neck, each hand coming to rest against one of the saboteurs shoulders, pinning him to the ground, as Prowl leaned back breaking the kiss.

Prowl glared heatedly down at Jazz, "Care to tell me what took you so long to get here?"

Jazz tried to shift under Prowl, his hands gripped Prowls shoulders trying to pull him down as Jazz tried to lean up to kiss him, giving a whine when Prowl refused to budge and kept Jazz firmly pinned to the floor, "Prooowl...do we have ta talk now?"

Prowl continued to glare, "I commed you an astrosecond after _your friend _grabbed me. It shouldn't have taken you this long to get here." Jazz tried to distract Prowl by going for his doorwings, only Prowl shifted and arched his doorwings out of Jazzes reach.

Jazz tried to stifle the grin and giggle he felt wanting to break through, "Prowl..."

"Jazz."

"I couldn't help it!"

Prowl arched a brow ridge at that, "What do you mean 'I couldn't help it'?"

"Ya left your comm link on. I heard everythin'," Jazz tried to pull Prowl down toward him again, "Ya lucky I got here at all! 'Ah nearly overloaded in the fraggin' hall!"

Prowl relented, leaning down to engage Jazz in a heated and passionate kiss. Jazz wrapped his arms around Prowls neck holding him tightly to his chest plate as he kissed back deeply, moaning happily as when he felt Prowls hands wondering over his frame. Prowl broke the kiss moments later to trail fevered kisses along Jazzs jaw and down to his neck, lavishing his attention there.

Jazz tilted his head back, grinning, "Primus, Prowl, he really got ya all worked up, didn't he?"

Prowl didn't answer but pressed his fingers into seams, stroking wires, causing Jazz to squirm beneath him. Jazz ran his hands from Prowls shoulders down his back, fingers running lightly over doorwing joints.

Jazz grinned, whispering in Prowls audio, "Well, lemme pick up where Blaster left off..", as he pressed his fingers into the joints.

Prowl moaned deeply, shuddering as he pressed his face into Jazzs neck, one arm wrapped tightly around his lovers waist, the other stretched across his back, a white hand clutching at his shoulder as Prowl arched his back. Doorwings drew back, allowing Jazz to press his fingers in further. Jazz chuckled as Prowl panted against his neck, body writhing and arching as Jazz aggressively pressed his fingers deeper into the joints.

Prowl gasped out a desperate shaky plea, "Jazz....Jazz, please...slow down...I'm..uuhhng...". Jazz pressed mercilessly on. Prowl teetered on the edge, trying hard to hold himself back.

The fingers in his joints stroked and pressed hard, "Come on, baby.." Jazz purred in his audio, reaching over to place firm nip on Prowls chevron. Prowl convulsed in Jazzs arms as the blazing white pleasure of overload spiraled through him, Jazzs neck muffling him as he cried out.

After a few moments Prowls tense body slumped against Jazzs, little tremors running through him as Jazz eased his fingers from the joints and proceeded to gently caress up and down Prowls back. Jazz nuzzled and placed soft kisses against Prowls helm. Prowls head lay on his lovers shoulder, optics barely online, panting, cooling fans working over time trying to cool him down. That had nearly knocked him offline, he was exhausted...still....

Languidly, Prowl drew his hands to Jazzs waist, fingers digging clumsily at seams. Jazz frowned, moving his hands to cover Prowls, stilling them, "What are ya doing?"

"You didn't get to overload," Prowls words were almost slurred.

Jazz gave him a small smile, even though Prowl couldn't see it since his head was still laying against Jazzs shoulder and his optics were almost off, "That was for you, Prowlie. But if ya insist, you can repay the favor later after you've had some energon and recharge."

Prowl gave a small moan, "No...no, its ok...I can still....", Prowl tried to press his captured fingers against a seam prompting Jazz to move Prowls hands away from his waist.

"Stop. What your going to do is come back to our quarters with me, have some energon, get some recharge, and then later we can play." Jazz sat up, taking care to move Prowl with him, "Come on.".

It took Jazz a few moments, but he got them both standing, Prowls arm slung across his shoulders as Jazz looped an arm around Prowls waist supporting him.

Prowl suddenly looked around, as though he had completely forgotten where they were, "Slag.." Prowl rubbed a hand over his face, "I need to finish going through the crates and checklists."

Jazz turned him toward the doorway, "Well, ya ain't doin' it tonight. We're here for several more cycles Prowl, it can wait till tomorrow."

Prowl sighed but let it go, he was too slagging tired, "Your right."

Jazz lead them out of the loading bay and Prowl, in his exhausted state, failed to notice the glance and smirk Jazz threw down a darkened hallway just outside the loading bay entry way. Too exhausted to noticed the shadowed form of a mech who was suppose to have left the loading bay when Prowl coldly told him to. Too exhausted to notice the whirling sound of cooling fans that weren't his own.

-

The next evening after a rather long and late shift, Springer trudged into the nearly deserted commons area and after getting himself a good sized cube of high grade, flopped down opposite Blaster at their usual table. Blaster usually got off his shift 10 or 20 breems earlier than Springer and he had already acquired his cube of high grade. Springer turned to tell Blaster about what a long and boring shift he had just had but could see Blaster was...distracted.

"Hey, I noticed you were back in the communications room this past shift while Prowl finished up in the loading bay. Heh, what'd you to tick him off and get put back on your regular shift? Forget to alphabatize the data pads, heh heh."

When Springer got no response he looked where Blasters gaze had become fixed to see what was distracting his friend. Spring looked around the commons room. Aside from them, the only one there was Prowl, who was sitting back against a couch facing them, reading the data pad in his hands, a more data pads lay on the small table in front of him. Springer frowned, there was nothing interesting to stare at. He looked back a Blaster and, without a doubt, Blasters optics were locked on the tactician. But Blasters gaze wasn't angry just...intense.

Springer reached over and tapped Blaster on the shoulder, "Hey."

Blaster jerked his head around to look at Springer, "Huh?"

Springer frowned at him, "What're you doing?"

Blaster sat back in his chair nonchalantly, raising his cube to take a drink, "Nothin'."

Jazz strolled into the room, throwing the two mechs at the table a grin before walking over and taking a seat on Prowls left side. Jazz scooted closer to Prowl, a black hand coming up to smooth finger tips over the doorwing that was press out against the couch, his other arm resting along the top of the couch. Jazz then leaned in and began whispering to Prowl as his hand continued to explore the familiar territory of the doorwing. Prowl seemed to completely ignore him.

Blaster shook his head, "Lucky fragger," he muttered into his drink.

Springer looked at him, confused, ".....Prowl?"

"Jazz."

Springer leaned forward on the table toward Blaster, "What!?"

Blaster looked at the two of them on the couch together, focusing mainly on Prowl. He wondered if there was any way he might be able to convince the tactician to forgo a night of monogamy in favor of other pleasures. After all, Jazz had said it was up to Prowl, right? Blaster downed the remains of his high grade, tossing the empty cube into a receptacle, before standing and heading toward the couch.

Springer stared at Blaster in shock, "Blaster, what are you doing? Where are you going? Blaster!?"

Springer watched in bewildered shock as his friend rounded the couch where the two officers sat and leaned against the back on Prowls right side, Blaster then leaned in close and spoke softly in Prowls audio.

A moment later, Blaster cautiously reached a hand down to the doorwing just below him and ran a finger tip experimentally along the top, all the while still speaking softly to Prowl. On Prowls other side, Jazz kept murmuring in his audio, his hand tracing every groove on the doorwing. The only acknowledgement Prowl gave to either of them was the slight deepening of his frown, his optics and attention seemed completely focused on the data pad in his hands.

Blaster then went from touching with just his finger tips to stroking the doorwing with his hand, fingers splaying against the smooth metal with each caress, moving his face even closer to Prowls helm.

As Springer looked on, he could see Prowls doorwings beginning to twitch more and more as the two mechs lavished their attention on them. After a few breems of this, Prowl, apparently having had enough of being petted, extracted himself from hands and arms and stood, stating he had work to do and gathered up his data pads even as both mechs protested his leaving quite vocally.

Prowl, with data pads filling his arms, turned and started for the doorway. As he passed by Blaster on his way out, Springer watched on in awe as Blaster reached out a hand to try and capture a doorwing that came within reach, only for Prowl to flick the doorwing easily away from Blasters eager finger tips and walk away.

Springer watched Prowl leave before turning back to look at Blaster and Jazz. Their optics, even though Jazzs were shielded behind a visor, displayed a hunger and their faces sported twin grins as their gazes locked on Prowls retreating form.

---------------------------------------------------------------

And there you go! Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Like I said, this was fun to write. And as always, comments, concerns, reviews, are all welcome! :)


	3. Game On!

Thanks again to everyone whose reviewed or commented! I always appreciate it! :)

This was a quick little drabble...nothing much, just a little cute Valentines Day bit. Not some of my best BUT its sweet and no angsty stuff!

And yes contains, mech on mech, yaoi, all the fun stuff....actually the deepest it goes is kissing.

Anyway! It was quick, cute, I'm tired, I'm off to get some sleep!

------------------

GAME ON!

-------------------

Prowl frowned down at the chess board, optics narrowed, scanning every chess piece almost accusingly. There was no way he had just lost the game. No way. No way. No way. He didn't LOSE at chess. Most certainly not to….THAT mech.

Said mech was currently singing and dancing in his chair to his own victory song, grinning for all he was worth. Prowls head snapped up as he glowered at his opponent, working to quell the desire to reach out and whack the mech upside his helm. He wasn't normally violent nor was he a sore loser but this was ridiculous! There was no way he lost! He had to have cheated! Prowl began to rescan the board again but failed to find anything amiss. No no no no no….

"YES! YEEEES!!! I DID IT! I WON! HA HA! WOOHOO!" Sideswipe swung his fists in the air, ecstatic he has just beat Prowl at a game of chess, in fact he almost didn't believe it himself! He slammed his fists down on the table, grinning madly at Prowl, "Yeah, baby! Take that!"

Prowl glared at him, "You cheated!".

Sideswipe laughed, "Wrong again, Prowl! Though I'm not going to hold that accusation against you. Cause after what I just achieved, I'm almost ready to accuse myself of cheating too!".

Prowl returned his glare to the chess board. Sideswipe snickered, "You can glare at it all you want, Prowl, ain't going to change the fact I won and you lost." Sideswipe grinned at Prowl and leaned across the table, "And you know what that means…." Prowl only glared back. Sideswipes optics glittered with mischief, "That means, YOU have to fulfill a task I give you."

Prowl sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest plate, "Fine. As long the task is with in the set rules-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sideswipe waved off Prowls oncoming lecture, "we went over your rules five times before we even started the game."

Prowl sighed, might as well get this over with, "What is it I have to do?".

He was not looking forward to this. In fact, if he had thought for an astrosecond he would lose to Sideswipe he never would have agreed to the game. He normally didn't agree to such things anyway but Sideswipe had made the wager if he lost to Prowl, no pranks for a week plus he'd do extra shifts.

However if Prowl lost, he had to fulfill a task that Sideswipe would come up with for him. All that had been after Sideswipe agreed that if Prowl did lose (to think he had scoffed at the idea!) and had to fulfill the task, it couldn't be something that would interferer with the daily running of operations or anything like that.

Sideswipe grinned madly again, drumming his fingers on the table, "You………have to kiss Jazz."

"Sideswipe! Jazz is a fellow officer! I can't just -"

Sideswipe waved a finger in front of Prowl, cutting him off, "No, no. I state the task. You fulfill it. That's how this works. You don't get to argue about it."

Prowl hissed through his vents, "Fine….I have to kiss Jazz."

"There are conditions, of course."

"And what might those be?"

Sideswipe held up his hand and counted off on his fingers, "One, you have to fulfill the task when I'm on monitoring duty, this way I actually know that you did it and followed the conditions. Two, you can't tell Jazz, or anyone for that matter, about the task or the conditions applied to it....not before or after. Three, the kiss has to last at least 15 seconds. And four, you have till the end of the week to fulfill the task, that's five days, Prowl." Sideswipe sat back smugly and watched as Prowl sputtered, flustered, his face plates heating so they held a tint of red.

"Five…I…y…15 seconds! What am I suppose to do for 15 seconds while I'm kissing him?"

Sideswipe smirked, "Use your imagination, Prowl."

Prowl glared, doorwings drawing back to emphasize he was not happy about this, "Fine.". And with that he stood and moved to leave the rec room.

"Five days, Prowl." Sideswipe grinned at Prowls back. Prowl hesitated, wanting to turn around and snap some comment back at him but decided against it and walked out the door. Sideswipe snickered, "Oh man, this is going to be good."

-

Prowl actually sent a silent 'Thank you' to Primus when some people from Washington DC contacted Prime asking for some Autobot ambassadors to be present for some holiday-what-not celebration and Prime sent out Bumblebee, Jazz, Cliffjumper, Hound, Mirage, and Skyfire to attend. Which was just fine with Prowl, this way Jazz was far away from base and he didn't have to think about the task Sideswipe had given him. That was until three days later in the rec room……

"Hey ya, Prowler!"

Prowl tensed, almost spitting out the energon he'd been drinking. He chocked it down before turning to the cheerful voice, "Jazz! What are you doing back so soon!? I thought you were staying through out the week?"

Jazz flumped down at the table with Prowl, "Naw, we got sent back early. Weather wasn't conducive to the big balloons or what not they were gonna have, what with the sudden snow 'n ice. So we got outta there before it got nasty."

Prowl simply nodded, "Well, I'm glad you and everyone else is back safe."

Jazz leaned on the table toward Prowl, "Awww, thanks Prowlie. Mightily nice of ya ta worry 'bout me…us." Jazzs proximity, that smile, plus the knowledge of the task he had yet to fulfill suddenly overwhelmed and flustered Prowl, he could feel his face plates heating up.

Jazz cocked his head to the side and studied Prowl as a reddish tint spread over his cheeks, "Ya alright there, Prowlie? Ya look a touch feverish. Ya didn't download a virus, did ya? Take in any bad energon?"

Prowl viciously shook his head suddenly standing and gathering all his data pads and papers, "No, no, I'm…I'm fine. I just need to…I need to go finish these. Thank you. I'm fine….thank you.". Prowl quickly exited the room in a flourish of data pads and papers leaving behind a bewildered Jazz. Hearing a noise behind him Jazz turned around, "What are you snickering at, Sideswipe?"

-

Prowl sat on his berth. Day four….he'd do it today. It was easy enough. After all he liked Jazz….not that Jazz knew about that. All he had to do was grab Jazz, kiss him, and be done with the entire thing, then he could go back to liking Jazz in private. Confident and determined, Prowl set out to find Jazz to get it over with, only to discover Jazz was covering a shift for Smokescreen so he was out on long patrol, which meant he wouldn't be getting back till late. Great, just great. Prowl sighed, oh well, nothing he could do about it. He'd deal with it when Jazz got back.

Prowl ended up spending all day plus hours late into the night getting almost all his reports done. He carefully gathered up an arm full of data pads and papers that required Optimus's signature and set out towards his commanders office, he'd slip in and leave the stack of data pads and papers for Prime to sign in the morning on his desk.

He was half way there when Jazz wearily slumped out of the wash racks, "Hey ya, Prowl."

Prowl stopped and looked at the normally cheerful mech, "What's wrong, Jazz?"

Jazz sighed, "Ya wouldn't believe what a rotten day this was. To start things off, I lost a bet to Smoky and had to cover his shift, I'm sure you found out about that, then it started raining, we almost got caught up in a mud slide, had to help three farmers fix their fences and herd the cows back into their enclosures, then the temperature dropped and the rain turned to sleet, I lost traction and slid off the road, got a stick jammed up in my undercarriage, Bluestreak had to help me dislodge it, fraggin' hurt! Then…"

At this point it suddenly dawned on Prowl that at this late hour of night, it was technically day five…last day for him to uphold his end of the wager. Sideswipe had won the game fair and square and Prowl was a mech of his word. A quick check of the schedule told him that, yes, Sideswipe was on monitoring duty right now, though the red twin had a habit of falling into recharge while covering this shift. Well, if he missed it, too bad. He could review the recordings. Prowl waited for Jazz to finish his story.

"'An I just spent nearly an hour in there scrubbing off all the mud and filth that was caked on meh." Jazz shook his head, "What a rotten, rotten day, man."

Prowl looked down the hall on his left then the hall on his right. No one was around. Good.

Prowl stepped up to Jazz, holding out the large stack of data pads and papers, indicating for Jazz to take the large bundle. Jazz did so with a questioning look. As soon as Prowls hands were free, he reached up, cupped his hands on either side of Jazzs black helm and gently pulled Jazz forward, their lips meeting in a tender kiss. For a moment neither moved. Prowl was unsure of what reaction he'd get from Jazz, but he was secretly pleased when Jazz started to move his mouth against his own, kissing him back.

Prowl kicked aside his inhibitions, parting his lips to allow his glossa to smooth over Jazzs mouth, nibbling on his lips before slipping his glossa between them to taste Jazz. Jazz eagerly responded in kind, opening up to allow glossas to touch, taste and intertwine.

Jazz moaned into the kiss, elated at the sudden turn of events. Prowl caressed up Jazzs helm, one hand ran along a sensory horn making Jazz whine against Prowls mouth before he caressed down Jazzs face, thumbs running along the edge of the visor then down his cheek seams, all the while he indulged in the deepening kiss.

After a few more moments, well after the required 15 seconds, Prowl gently pulled away. Jazz leaning forward attempting to capture Prowls lips again, but Prowl distracted him by suddenly retrieving the bundle of data pads and papers he had placed in Jazzs hands.

Prowl looked back at Jazz, Prowls face as stoic as ever, "I hope you have a better day tomorrow, Jazz." He stepped back, nodding to Jazz before turning away, "Good Night, Jazz".

Jazz, shocked, watched Prowl walk away from him, down the hall before disappearing around a corner. Jazz shook his head. _What the fu-_

His comm link chirped at him, a cheerful voice ringing out, "Happy Valentines Day, Jazz! I do believe I granted your wish. So, I fully expect to see five generous cubes of that top notch High Grade you keep secreted away waiting for me in my quarters."

Jazz shook his head and chuckled, "I don't know how ya did it, Sideswipe, but you can rest assured that High Grade will be waiting for ya when ya get off duty."

"Awesome!"

Jazz turned, a large grin stretched across his face, as he started toward his quarters, "I ain't even gonna ask how ya did it, Siders. All I wanna know is how many cubes of the good stuff would it cost meh ta get ya ta lure Prowl ta my quarters?"

Sideswipe just laughed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OK, I'm tired now.....must get sleeeeep


	4. Kiss

I had a message ping me as I was working on another story that said **vejiraziel**'s birthday over on LJ was on the 23rd.

Seeing as how I was feeling somewhat creative, I whipped up this super short little bit of sweet J/P fluff for her and since I got lots coming up this week I decided to post this early so I wouldn't forget.

I thought it turned out cute so I'm sharing. :)

__________

**Kiss**

----------------

Jazz glared at Prowl from across Prowls desk. Oh, Prowl was unaware of the glare behind that visor but it was there all the same. Today would be different. Today Jazz would make sure Prowl knew how he felt about the tactician.

So far Jazz had let Prowl retreat behind work when he got to feeling too uncomfortable around Jazz as Jazz tried to get close. And then there were the times when Jazz would be not so subtle and Prowl would look at him confused. The tactician falling victim once again to the strange stupidity that seemed to consume him when a conversation with Jazz strayed from strategies, soldiers, or work.

No, today Prowl got no breaks. But it wasn't going to be easy, Prowl wasn't going to just let him walk up and have his way with him….no, Jazz would have to be sneaky. And as he stared at Prowl an idea blossomed in his mind and a slow sly grin spread across his face.

---

Prowl finished reading through the report Jazz had brought him and after signing it he was about to hand it back to Jazz when he saw Jazz lean in toward him. Optics narrowing as if trying to identify something. Prowl frowned,

"Jazz, what -"

Jazz made a motion with his hand as he leaned in toward Prowl more.

"Ya got…there's somethin' on ya face. Its…."

Prowl raised a hand as if to touch his face then stopped, thinking better of it. Earth had numerous small organisms that could easily get into the Ark, all perfectly harmless. He saw no need to lay harm to something that could easily be removed and released outside.

"What is it?"

Jazz reached out and grasped Prowls chin in his hand,

"Hold still……its…" Jazz leaned in more trying to get a good look. He raised his hand looking like he was

about to pluck whatever it was on Prowls face off but frowned and hesitated.

"Shutter your optics, Prowl." Jazz was sooo close Prowl would feel the heat from Jazz's breath on his cheek when he spoke.

"Why?"

Jazz reached up and again hesitated,

"Cause its near ya optics an' I don' want it ta fall in."

Prowl immediately shuttered his optics for both his benefit and whatever is was on his face. He could hear Jazz move closer.

"What is it?"

"Don' move."

Prowl froze as he felt something softly touch right over his left optic, then he felt it again against his cheek. Prowl dared not move and fought a shiver when he felt something brush softly across his mouth. The silence stretched out prompting Prowl to finally mutter,

"Jazz?"

"Ya can open your optics now, Prowl." Jazz sounded incredibly close.

Prowl began to carefully and slowly open his optics,

"What was it?"

"A kiss."

Prowls optics snapped open and he found himself staring into Jazz's grinning face.

"Don' worry, it tried ta run but I took care of it." Jazz ran his thumb across Prowls shocked lips,

"Ya seem ta attract 'em. I'll have ta stay close in case any more come along. Oh, wait…"

Jazz leaned in and captured Prowls mouth in a short sweet kiss. Pulling back he looked into Prowls large shocked optics and smiled,

"Preventative measure."

The only warning Jazz got was Prowls optic twitching just before his battle computer crashed. Jazz was able to catch him before he hit the desk and gently settle him against the surface.

Jazz stood, grinning proudly, as he looked down at the unconscious tactician,

"Man, I'm good."

-------Authors Notes------

awww, is cute fluff! ^_^

I hope everyone enjoyed! As always reading and reviewing is appreciated :)


	5. Drabbles that went no where

Bunch of Drabbles that never went anywhere….

Just a collection of drabbles that I sat down and wrote out but never became anything. Some were prompted from bunnies from the LJ TF bunny farm, some just random bunnies that bit.

Enjoy!

***************************************************

**Substitute**

He arched and writhed against the black hands that danced along his frame, pressed into seams, stroked and tugged on wires. Panting heavily, gulping cool air to aid his cooling fans which might as well have not been working at this point. He just kept getting hotter and hotter. If this kept up, he'd leave scorch marks on the couch he was laying on!

But the mech straddling his hips was merciless, fingers dug to seams causing him to jerk and cry out at the sensations, giving him no reprieve. He could barely keep up. His own hands, trembling, scrabbled for purchase on the mech, on the couch, whatever his hands could clench onto at the moment.

Jazz looked down at him, visor bright and gleaming the smile on his face was purely predatory. There would be no give from him. What Jazz wanted, Jazz would take.

Jazz pressed his fingers deeper into seams, twisting a wire around a finger and tweaking it. Hands clinched into the fabric as the mech below Jazz arched and moaned pressing the back of his helm into a soft cushion of the couch.

He looked up at Jazz his mouth opened to either moan or call out Jazz's name, he couldn't remember which, when Jazz kissed him. If one could call it a kiss. It was more like an attack. Jazz's mouth attacked his own, hard and hungry. The saboteur dominated the kiss forcing the other to bend to his will, leaving no room for protest or argument.

And those hands, they never stopped moving! Jazz's hands smoothed over his chassis, questing fingers searching his heated plating for sensitive seams that would part and allow black digits to slip through to stroke and caress wires and nodes. The mech beneath Jazz squirmed, whining frantically, thinking if he didn't hit overload soon he'd go mad!

That's when Jazz's comm line beeped.

_: Jazz? Are you busy? :_

Jazz sat up, a hand pinning the squirming body between his legs to the couch. _: Not at all, Prowl baby. Are ya in need of anythin'? :_

_: No, I was just thinking its growing late and I can finish up these reports next cycle. I acquired some High Grade earlier and thought we might retire to our quarters for some…..alone time. :_

Jazz smiled in pure glee. _: I'll met ya there! :_

And with that Jazz sprung from the couch, leaping over the back to land smoothly on his feet before practically running out of the rec room. Distantly he heard someone yell at Jazz to watch where he was going. But he didn't care. He couldn't believe Jazz had just taken off like that.

Jazz had started this after all. All he had been doing was getting some energon after his patrol shift when Jazz had pretty much grabbed him and threw him on the couch. And now Jazz just ups and runs off! Leaving him in this…in this condition!

With effort, he rolled off the couch landing on shaky hands and knees. He gasped, still trying to catch his breath and cool his throbbing want filled body down. Still trying to break through the pleasure induced haze he was in, he didn't here anyone walk up to him until they spoke.

"Hot Rod? What's the matter with you?"

He looked up to see the golden warrior and his red twin looking down at him curiously. He heaved a breath and placed a shaky hand on the couch to aid in getting to his feet, only looking up when he heard Sideswipe laugh.

"Jazz got you, didn't he!?"

Sunstreaker simply smirked, shook his head and walked away leaving his twin who leaned against the couch and grinned down at him.

"Yeah, you gotta watch him. When he's in the mood and Prowls not available, Jazz finds himself a….substitute to play with. And from the looks of it he didn't get around to finishing what he started."

Sideswipe reached out and gripped his shoulder in what would normally be a friendly gesture but as worked up as he was at the moment it only served to send tendrils of shivering pleasure through him and he tensed up.

Sideswipe laughed, "Better luck next time, newbie!". Then he walked away to join his twin, leaving him kneeling on the floor, shaking with need, hand clenched on the couch, cursing his luck.

***************************************************

**Open Minded**

Plot bunny:  
_"How would the Decepticons cope with Soundwave being turned into a sparkling? A telepathic sparkling who can read your thoughts and doesn't know better than tell them out loud?"_

Starscream gave a snide smirk to his leader.

"Well done, Megatron. Not only did the Autobots practically waltz past your 'super sophisticated defense system that can't possibly fail' but that glitched inventor of theirs turned Soundwave into a sparkling with one of his backward inventions."

Despite Megatrons pointed glare, Starscream tsked him anyway.

"And you wonder why I insist its time for a new leader."

The small Soundwave sparkling sitting on the arm of Megatron's throne chair looked from Starscream to his leader.

"He likes you."

Starscream froze, the smirk he had been wearing vanished as he suddenly tensed. Megatron grinned cruelly at Starscream's reaction, optics narrowing at the seeker.

"Is that so."

The sparkling looked up at Megatron a moment before turning back to Starscream.

"He likes your wings. He thinks their pretty. He'd like to -"

"HOOK!"

At Megatron's roar Hook appeared in a doorway, "S-sir?"

Rising from his throne, Megatron picked up the blue sparkling and held him out to Hook.

"Fix this…NOW!".

***************************************************

**Jaded**

In hind site, Jazz could admit he was a little jaded…..

Ok, ok, he was very jaded.

He was use to mechs and femmes alike always willing to cuddle up to him, berth with him…slag, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been told "no". His wit and charm usually catapulted him to the top of everyone's favorite list and kept him there.

So when the new, glossy, cool, lip licking Second in Command took a set across from him in the conference room, Jazz instantly began turning on the charm. He stayed close to Prowl…Prrrroowwl...he even liked the mechs name. He could purr it, making the simple word sound sensual and alluring.

Whenever that gorgeous doorwinged mech was around, Jazz made sure he was quick with his most charming grin, compliments, and a touch subtle wit, after all Prowl was the highly intelligent type and would enjoy that. And even though Prowl didn't respond to Jazz the way others had in the past, Jazz was sure that was all part of Prowl being professional. He was sure underneath all that stern, prim and proper exterior Prowl was just as taken with Jazz as Jazz was with him.

So after a good two weeks of laying on the charm and gracefully but subtly letting Prowl know just how interested he was, Jazz finally had the opportunity he'd been waiting for. It was late when he happened upon Prowl in a deserted rec room. He slid over to the fellow black and white and struck up a conversation he knew would hook Prowl.

He felt reassured of his good timing and his charm when he saw Prowl lean back against the wall in a somewhat relaxed manner, the most relaxed he'd seen the mech yet. That was good.

Prowl sighed before looking at Jazz.

"I'm surprised to see you without some entourage surrounding you, Jazz."

Jazz quirked a smile at him.

"I ditched 'em in favor of better company."

Prowl arched a brow ridge, clearly asking _Me? _

Jazz turned toward Prowl, leaning his shoulder against the wall.

"Yeah, cause you an' I work good together."

Prowl seemed to consider this a moment.

"I suppose we do work well together."

Jazz inched slightly closer.

"I think there's a lot we could do well together."

Prowl frowned, looking confused like he didn't know what Jazz was hinting at. Jazz smirked.

"Come on Prowl, don' play all confused with me. Ya know very well what I'm talkin' 'bout." Jazz moved closer and Prowl looked at him skeptically.

"Since ya took a seat across from me, I've been itchin' ta get meh hands on ya. I wanna touch ya, Prowl. I wanna breath your name in ya audio as we press close, close enough we forget where one ends an' the' other begins. I wanna kiss that mouth 'a yours till ya can't process a thought straight."

Prowls face went from confused to shocked and his optics widened as Jazz looked at him and slid just a little closer, licking his lips, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone and level.

"I wanna taste ya. Explore ya. Touch, kiss and savor every inch of that delicious frame of yours….and those doorwings…. Mmmmm, I could just lick and rub the paint right off 'em."

Jazz's look went from playful to predatory as he hooked two fingers under Prowl's bumper and pulled the shocked tactician closer.

"But most of all, I can't wait ta have ya flat on your back in my berth, moanin' my name."

Jazz grinned as he leaned in, moving to pull one shocked, wide opticed tactician in for a kiss.

To this day, Jazz can't remember Prowl actually hitting him. One moment he was standing in the rec room about to kiss Prowl, the next moment laying on a Med Bay berth…his face throbbing.

And upon explaination, it was the first time Jazz ever heard Ratchet laugh so hard.

***************************************************

**Fair's fair**

_Plot bunny:  
"The Decepticons have dealt with many things, never really thought they had to deal with the Nemesis springing a leak. - Megatron realizes none of his mechs can build a proper underwater base, thus prompting him to get a hold of OP via their computers and asks if he can commission Grapple."_

As the image of Megatron appeared on the screen of Teletran, Optimus frowned behind his battle mask and mentally preparing himself for whatever Megatron was about to throw his way. It was never a good thing when Megatron contacted them.

Optimus was joined by Jazz who stood by his side then Prowl who stood next to Jazz. The three mechs stared at Megatron's image who glared right back. They waited for Megatron to start in with his usual tirade or threat or latest boast. But there was nothing. Only silence as they looked at one another.

The silence stretched on until Optimus finally spoke up.

"State your business, Megatron."

Megatron shifted uncomfortably, leaning back in his throne chair, hands gripping the arm rests. When he spoke it was almost begrudgingly.

"Very well…..I….wish to commission your builder Grapple."

Optimus, Jazz, and Prowl all stared at screen too shocked to respond right away. Then Prowl's optic began to twitch. Optimus shifted his weight and leaned in closer to the screen sure he had not heard right.

"What?"

Megatron heaved a sigh as he glowered at Optimus.

"I'll make this simple, Optimus," Megatron leaned forward closer to the screen, "I need his aid to repair and rebuild parts of the Nemesis."

All three Autobots remained silent, trying to grasp what had to be the most unexpected request from Megatron ever. Jazz glanced at Optimus and Prowl before looking back at the screen.

"Uhhhh…isn't that what you have Constructicons for? Ya know…to construct stuff?"

Megatron rubbed a hand over his face in exasperation as he sighed and mumbled just loud enough to be heard.

"Yes, one would think that, wouldn't they."

Scrapper edged into view.

"Sir, we told you from the beginning we weren't sure about building anything underwater, that -"

Megatron turned on the Constructicon.

"Oh, shut up! And get out of my sight!"

Scrapper bid a hasty retreat as Megatron turned back to the screen, looking down as he rubbed his forehead.

"Bunch of useless-"

He looked back up at Optimus.

"So, will you let me?"

Optimus shifted his weight again, thrown by such an odd request, he brought a hand up to rub the back of his helm as he thought.

"I don't….think so."

Megatron flopped back in his chair, gesturing wildly.

"Oh, come on, Prime! You've got a working base! I should have a working base too! Its only fair! And that's what you Autobots are all about, right? Fairness and equality. And-"

Megatron stopped short as he took notice of Prime's Second in Commend suddenly holding his head in his hands and swaying on his feet. Megatron pointed to Prowl.

"Whats his problem?"

Both Optimus and Jazz looked over to Prowl. Then Jazz looked back at Megatron.

"Oh, he's just going to crash any second now."

Megatron watched as Prowl stumbled off screen followed by the sound of a body crashing to the floor. Jazz simply looked off to the side where Prowl had crashed.

"And there we go".

Optimus looked at Prowl where he lay on the floor then back at Megatron.

"Yeah....the answers no. "

***************************************************

-authors notes-  
Personally, I like the first drabble the most. XD  
These are drabbles that never went anywhere. If anyone really wants to or feels motivated, feel free to adopt one and have fun with it. :)  
As always, I enjoy reading and reviewing...if you want tell me which ya liked best...or you can suggest an idea....you never what feeding plot bunnies will yield. XD


	6. Care

A sweet little Christmas bunny that nicely nibbled. :)

Sappy, little thing. Not even any real mech on mech...and that rare for me! LOL

In rereading this, I think alittle clarification is needed. I work in an office where we can wear headphones. I do usually have them on and cranked up so I can't hear anything but awesome music. But there are times I have them on simply for effect. If I _look _like I'm jammin' to music people won't bug me with the usual office gossip. However, like in the story below, sometimes you end up hearing things you weren't intended to, because the person believes your tuned out. Its what you do with that new found knowledge that's important. :)

Enjoy!

* * *

**Care**

It was after 2:30 in the morning, in human time anyway, when Prowl FINALLY left his office. His normal neutral expression was absent, in its place a nasty scowl. He didn't bother to hide it, no one was up at this hour….except him. Always him. Once again Prowl was left to clean up and document the messes everyone else made.

It had been a down right rotten day.

Sideswipe had felt the need to do more than his fair share of pranks, Mirage and Cliffjumper got into a fight…again, Wheeljack injured himself while working on an experiment involving ice icicles (an experiment he hadn't even gotten clearance for) which upset the Dinobots, the Dinobots then tried to crowd in the Med Bay to see Wheeljack, which upset Ratchet. And the more aggressive Ratchet got, the more wound up Grimlock got, declaring he can go where he wants, when he wants, angry medics be damned! In all the commotion and given the tight spaces, a few cameras got knocked out which upset Red Alert and caused him to rant nonstop for a good 30 breems before Inferno came and calmed the irate security officer down. That should have been enough for one day but then the call came in that the Autobots owed a tidy sum in speeding and parking tickets, seems several members of the crew didn't think human laws applied to them. And to top it all off, Chip Chase had canceled their chess game to, of all things, go on a date.

With far too many files on his desk and no chess game to relax with, Prowl had dived into his work. Report after report after report. Each one allowing him to relive the unpleasant occurrence.

Finally with punishment divvied out, reassignments granted, schedules double checked, and reports completed, Prowl left his office to get himself a good cube of energon before heading to his berth.

He could tell by the flicking lights inside the commons area he was no longer alone. Walking in Prowl saw Jazz sitting on the large couch, back to him, moving and bobbing his head to music only he could hear, the video game he played was bless fully muted or else the sound routed to his internal audios.

Prowl watched him for a second before shaking his head and walking toward the dispenser.

It could have been the long hard day or the way Jazz could so easily enjoy himself or the knowledge that Jazz was sooo caught up in his own world of music and video games he wouldn't hear a word the SIC was saying.

"Must be nice.."

Prowl tossed his data pad on a table and continued to the dispenser,

"To be able to indulge in yourself like you do. Don't worry about the work, I'll take care of it….always do."

Prowl took a cube and began filling it, casting a glance at Jazz. He continued to play his game and groove to his music. Prowl looked back down at his cube as it filled,

"I realize the general perception of me is that I don't like to do anything BUT work however that's completely untrue. I actually have a variety of hobbies. I play chess with Chip and I am thoroughly enchanted with human novels. Fiction ones, no less. "

Prowl took his full cube and walked over to stand by the table he had flopped his data pad on, watching Jazz's head as he moved, watched as Jazz's character on the screen advanced to the next level.

Prowl looked down at the table, his fingers brushed the smooth surface,

"Every morning I hear mechs ask each other "So, what'd you do last night?".

Prowls hand stilled and he frowned,

"No one asks me that. I don't believe its because they don't think it. I believe its because they truly believe I worked till I fell into recharge. That there is no down time for me, I'm always working."

Prowl looked up, optics focused on Jazzs black helm,

"Did you know I've read three Stephen King novels and didn't suffer a single processor lock up? Not ground shaking news, I know, but…when you have a glitch like mine….. I've been thinking of throwing caution into the wind and reading a forth. Just not sure which one yet."

Prowl sighed and took a drink of his energon.

"I'd look into reading more except I've been so busy. Every time I turn around there's a problem that needs addressing, a fight that needs to be broken up, a report that needs filling out, or punishment that needs to be handed out. And despite what's said, I don't enjoy handing out punishments all the time. Not that you have to worry about that. Neither you nor Optimus will handle punishments so it falls on my shoulders and, therefore, I'm the jerk. I'm the bad guy,"

Prowl set his cube down and looked at Jazz for a moment.

"I don't ever hope to be popular with the crew like you are, I don't think it would suit me. But it would be nice to be treated like I'm more than a sparkless work drone."

Prowl sighed, frowning, as he picked up his data pad and cube of energon and walked toward the exit, sour mood returning,

"It doesn't matter. And its not like you can even hear me, or ever do ,and I doubt you'd care if you did. Enjoy your video game, Jazz, and your stupid music as well."

* * *

The Christmas party was finally done and over. Many mechs were passed out or in recharge on the large couch. All the humans that had attended were safely in their respective homes and now Prowl could return to his quarters and relax.

The past week had gone amazingly smooth. Not a single prank, no fights, no angry medics, or irate security officers. Prowl had actually been able to get reports done and leave his office at a decent time all week. He had to remind himself not to get use to it, the peace wasn't likely to last.

It was once again well past midnight when Prowl stepped into his quarters, the door sliding quietly shut behind him. He placed a data pad on the file shelf and turned to lay down on his berth when he saw a wayward data file laying on it.

Prowl frowned, he had not left anything out of place prior to leaving for the party. He stepped over to his berth and picked up the file, activating it.

It was a book file, the title lit up the screen, "Stephen King Stories Just After Sunset".

Prowl stared at the screen, shocked. He didn't know what to think. Who…..

A small blinking box off to the side caught his attention, indicated an unread note. He tapped on the little square and up popped a simple note:

I care.

I'll see you in the morning.

Merry Christmas,  
Jazz

P.S. My music is not stupid :)

Prowl couldn't have stopped the grin that took up his face if he tried. He gripped the book file a little tighter before turning and opening a storage cabinet beneath his berth. He pulled out one of his stashed away cubes of high grade (didn't every mech have a stash?).

Prowl sat on the berth and leaned back against the wall, making himself comfortable. He took a good drink of his high grade then activated the book file once more, scrolling to the first story. He hoped to finish it before morning because he had a feeling Jazz would be inquiring as to what he did last night and Prowl wanted to give him a good answer.

****Authors Notes****  
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! Hope you guys enjoyed! Merry Christmas! :)


	7. Drabbles That Went No Where Part 2

OK, I'm cleaning out the Drabbles folder on my computer and so I bring you another round of...

**Drabbles That Went No Where, Part 2**

As per usual, if you are inspired by any drabble, feel free to pick up and have a go! And do let me know! I LOVE reading where other people take these. :) Also, if you read one and go "OH OH OH! I have an idea of what you could do with/how you could further it" message me and let me know what you have in mind. I love suggestions and ideas. :)

**Warnings**: A few drabbles are dark themed, mech on mech, some angst, mentions of rape, drug use, non con, dub con, and I think that's all.

This is a long one...so grab some snacks and a drink.

* * *

**What Part Of No….**

**(****KO/BD or KO/? Originally meant to be a story of how Breakdown was one of the first mechs to ever turn Knock Out down, unintentionally intensifying Knock Out's interest in him instead of decreasing it. Knock Out, unable to accept that ANYONE would turn him down, resorts to stalking and drugging Breakdown. But as this story never took off, it doesn't need to be BD who he's fixated on.)**

"_No."_

Knock Out stood, alone, in the darkened empty commons room. Optics fixed on the spot of empty space in front of him, staring blankly where a mech had stood not too long ago.

"_No."_

The word played itself in his head. Circling. Repeating. It registered on some level. The meaning he could process, but it just didn't make any sense.

"_No."_

He was very familiar with the word, knew it well. Had said it many times to many others. And it always made sense when he said it, which was why it wasn't making any sense now. He was so use to saying the word, directing it at someone. But directed at him…..this was foreign territory. It was like a whole another world being opened up. That he could be….rejected.

This….this had never happened before.

All the other times, all the other mechs he'd ever approached had been happy…no, no…they had been _thrilled_ at being offered the opportunity to spend a few orns in his berth. They had felt privileged to lay with him, touch him, 'face him. To be allowed a taste of his exquisite perfection. They had reeled from the experience.

"_No."_

The only thing keeping the shock from turning to anger as he finally moved from his frozen stance, mind viscously chewing over the incident, steps taking him to familiar territory, his med bay, was how it had been said.

There had been no malice, no sneering, no condescending tone, just uncertainly and a quick retreat. As though the invitation itself was something to fear. It was strangely intriguing. Made the new warrior far more interesting, some how more….desirable. And when he desired something, he got it. The how didn't really matter.

Knock Out walked over to a storage cabinet with a coded lock, keyed in the code, and open the doors. Inside was shelf after shelf of various colored glowing vials. Medicine but not for medicinal purposes. These were for Knock Out's….personal use. A wide range of concoctions he'd played with and perfected over the vorns.

* * *

**What Hurts The Most**

**(Prowl/? Originally intended to be a story about how Prowl is captured by Cons, only to find out just how many Autobots are actually Decepticon spies. Individuals who he was very close to and trusted. His capture was actually intended to keep him safe and out of harms way as the last battle was finally fought.)**

Prowl came online slowly.

He hurt, oh Primus, he hurt. Everywhere, every limb, every joint. It was as if every sensor in his body ached or was registering pain.

What had happened?

Prowl tried to bring a hand to his aching head. He couldn't move. His arms and legs were stretched out spread eagle and bound tightly to the wall behind him. He powered up his optics and even they didn't seem to want to work right. His vision was a little blurred but not so much he couldn't tell where he was.

Prowl had expected a cell to grace his optics, however what he was looking at was more like someone's personal quarters. The room was rectangular and he was strung up on the far end, on the smaller wall. Opposite him on the other small wall stood a metal cabinet. To his right, pressed up against the wall was a good sized berth, and a few feet from the head of the berth was a door.

Prowl gave struggle to test the bindings…but they were solid. There was no give.

What had happened? How had he gotten here?

Bits and pieces of memory flashed through his processor.

He had been out on patrol. Yes, that's right, he'd been out on patrol with….with…slag, who had he been with. Sunstreaker….Sunstreaker….and Jazz! Yes, he remembered Jazz, he had called out to Prowl to "look out"…right as the Decepticons had ambushed them.

There had been gun fire and an….explosion. Prowl had been driven back behind a rock…Sunstreaker was there. He remembered Sunstreaker hadn't been firing at the Decepticons and he'd asked if Sunstreaker's weapon had been broken or was malfunctioning.

Then Sunstreaker….grabbed him and ….hit him.

He'd gone down, stunned, and Sunstreaker…kept hitting him, he didn't even have a chance to fight back.

Before he offlined he remembered hearing Jazz yelling, yelling at Sunstreaker, "Sunny! NO!"

That had of been how Prowl got caught. Slagging Sunstreaker and his temper.

But what of Jazz?

Granted, Jazz was good at getting out of tight spots. Hopefully he had gotten away, warned the base, maybe bring help. He wouldn't want any Autobot to fall into the hands of Soundwave…like he had.

Prowl shuddered uncontrollably at the memory. He couldn't remember all if it, just touches of memory.

Being strapped down to a table, wires forcefully inserted directly into data uplink jacks, the unimaginable pain that came from having information being forcibly taken from his processor that had left him writhing and fighting against his restraints uselessly.

And now he was here, again, awaiting whatever torture the Decepticons would see fit to put him through this time.

Through the thinner metal of the door, he could hear the faint sound of a door cycle open, then closed as some one moved about in an a jointed room. He didn't want to admit it, but he could feel fear and dread closing welling up in him. Whoever was in the other room had him for a specific purpose. This was not a normal holding cell or interrogation room.

Perhaps this was an act of vengeance or simply a 'Con intending to use him as a form of entertainment…or both.

Some of the Decepticons were well known for their sadistic ways….especially seekers.

Whatever happened next was not going to be pleasant.

* * *

**Truth or Dare**

**(J/P, others. This...I blame on friends. I talk to people, I get ideas for fics, I write them out. This one has been on my computer for months and months. I have no idea where I was going to go with it and after all this time, whatever I had in mind for it has never resurfaced. So, it belongs here.)**

Jazz leaned heavily against the table, laughing hard, doing his best not to fall out of his chair. Watching Sunstreaker do his best impression of Tracks while very, very overcharged was nothing short of hilarious. Not that Sunstreaker was the only one overcharged, they all were at this point.

Sunstreaker fell back into his chair, a cocky wide grin on his face as he grabbed up his cube of high grade. He pointed with the index finger of the hand that held his high grade at all the mechs around the table.

"And that, my friends, is how it is done."

Hound kept trying to take another drink of his high grade but would start laughing too hard to actually complete the task. Mirage leaned on the table next to him, his drink sitting neatly in front of him, his face buried in his hands as he continued to laugh. Ratchet leaned on Ironhide as both tried to catch their breath but only ended up laughing harder. Sideswipe sat next to his brother, slumped over the table, his head resting on his arms as he laughed into the table top, unable to look at his brother without cracking up all over again.

Sustreaker chuckled and took a long drink of his high grade before clearing his throat.

"Ok, ok. Ummmm, Jazz!"

Jazz looked up at Sunstreaker, even as his vision gave a funny waver. Sunstreaker grinned, "Jazz! Your turn! Truth or Dare?"

Jazz gave a small laugh before clearing his throat and took a sip of his high grade, using that moment to access himself. Primus knew, he was in no condition to stand and do any kind of dare. So, he chose the former.

"Truth."

Sideswipe finally sat up in his chair, looking disgustingly disappointed as he faced Jazz.

"Awwww, come on! That's such a cop out, Jazz! Think of something good, Sunny."

Sunstreaker looked at Jazz and tilting his helm to the side, thinking. "You know, Jazz, you have to answer truthfully…to whatever question I ask."

Jazz smiled right back. "Oh, Ah' know how the game's played. Ask away!"

"Ok. Who's the best frag you've ever had?"

"OH!" Sideswipe grabbed his brother's arm, shaking him vigorously. "Make it so it has to be the best he's had from, wait, wait….from here. Here! The Ark. On Earth."

Sunstreaker smirked. "Who's the best frag you've had whose on the Ark?"

Sideswipe's grin was huge.

"Yes!"

Ratchet gave a snort.

"What? You looking for lessons, Sideswipe?"

Everyone around the table cracked up again. Sideswipe just sneered at everyone.

"Ha ha ha, very funny. Shut up."

Sunstreaker turned his attention back to Jazz.

"Well, Jazz?"

Jazz grinned into his drink.

"Prowl."

All laugher came to an abrupt halt as six pairs of shocked optics looked at Jazz, who simply smiled back. The mechs at the table then looked at one another before erupting into laugher. Sideswipe pressed a hand to his side, feeling like he was about to split a seam, as he looked at Jazz who was laughing just as hard.

"Ja….Jazz, come on, you…you have to be…be serious."

"Ah' am."

All the mechs around the table practically doubled over with laughter.

Ironhide shook his head.

"Ah'…..Ah' don't believe it!"

Mirage leaned an arm on the table, trying to keep himself upright.

"It's the truth. Prowl's real good."

Ratchet laughed and looked at Mirage questioningly, "An….and how would you know?"

"I've used my cloaking device and watched them!"

They all laughed harder. Jazz, laughing hard, stood and leaned forward against the table.

"You…you fragger!"

One hand balled onto a fist, Jazz swung and landed a swift punch to Mirage's face, causing the spy to topple back in his chair and crash to the ground. Still laughing even as he cupped his cheek and struggled to stand up. When Jazz make a move like he was going to go toward Mirage again, Hound stood and held up his hands in a placating manner.

"Ok, ok,…hahahaaa!…I..I think we're done for the night. C-come on, Mirage."

Mirage laughed as he rubbed his cheek and with Hound's help clumsily stood. They exited the rec room, Hound practically carrying Mirage, both still giggling. Jazz laughed and shook his head.

"A.h'…Ah' think Ah'm done for the night too. Thanks for the fun guys!"

Jazz laughed and staggered out the rec room and slowly down the hall to his quarters. He barely was able to type in the code and make it to his berth before he succumbed to sweet high grade induce oblivion.

* * *

**Rumor Has It  
****  
(KO/BD This came about after a few conversations and influences of the kink meme. It was intended to be a short story of rumors going around about how Soundwave was interested in BD because now that he had only one eye he kinda reminded Soundwave of Shockwave. The rumor finally finds Knock Out and Knock Out throwns a fit as only Knock Out can. It was never intended to be a BD/SW fic, just the more the rumor gets out of hand, the more Knock Out gets out of hand.)**

The med bay doors opened, Knock Out nearly tripping over the threshold in his haste to enter. He was fuming, anger and agitation rolling off him in waves as he looked around the room.

"Where is he? Is he here?"

Breakdown glanced up from his report to see Knock Out seething where he stood. "Who?"

Glaring around the med bay, the medic ground out the words. "Was he here? He was here, wasn't he?"

"Who?" Breakdown turned in his chair as Knock Out's voice rose in volume.

"Soundwave." Knock Out spit the name out as though it were a curse. Breakdown frowned, while he knew Knock Out had never been fond of the Communications Officer, he couldn't imagine what the masked mech had done to bring about this surge of hostility.

"Uh, yeah. He stopped by earlier."

Knock Out inhaled sharply, red optics flashing bright and dangerous. "He came here while I was gone, didn't he!"

Obviously or Knock Out wouldn't be asking.

He gave a small nod. "Yeah. He dropped off this data pad." Reaching over he lifted the data pad so Knock Out could see it. Which, he realized a little too late, may have been the wrong thing to do as Knock Out's hands curled into fists. The anger intensifying, not dissipating.

"Did he hand it to you?"

"I…uh...what?"

"Did he hand it to you?"

"Uh…" He thought back. "Yeah…yes, he handed the data pad to me. Why -"

"That son of a glitch!" Knock Out roared, "I knew it! I knew it!"

Breakdown watched, confused, taken aback at the sudden out burst as the medic stormed the length of the med bay, back and forth, ranting, muttering swears. Looking back at the data pad in his hand, Breakdown was unsure how a simple hand off was causing so much commotion.

He decided to try logic.

"Knock Out, you hand me data pads all the time."

Knock Out rounded on him, indignant. "That's right! That's how it should be!" A snarl pulled at the medic's lips. "You shouldn't be getting data pads from anyone but me!"

"I…" This wasn't working. Knock Out wasn't making sense. He was unsure of what the problem was exactly. He looked at his riled up partner, holding up the object of trouble once more. "It's a….it's just data pad…."

Knock Out stared at him a moment before scowling, giving an agitated sigh. "You have to read in between the lines, Breakdown."

Looking at the data pad in his hand, Breakdown shook his head as he looked back at his riled up partner. "Knock Out, I haven't even had time to activate it yet."

"No!" An exasperated sigh. "Not the lines on the data pad!" As if it were soooo obvious Breakdown should have known. "I mean metaphorically!"

Breakdown looked at Knock Out for a moment, then back to the report on the computer he'd been typing up, down to the data pad in his hand, then up again to Knock Out. His remaining optic narrowed slightly as he leaned forward in his seat. "We're not talking about the same things here, are we?"

"I don't see how you can be confused, Breakdown, it's all very clear to me!"

* * *

**Uninvited**

**(Prowl/? This is a dark rape-ish piece. I have no memory of what spawned it but it's all from Prowl's POV and I don't think he ever sees his attacker/molester)**

He had been sitting at his desk, working and the next thing he knew; darkness. He couldn't believe he'd fallen offline…then again he hadn't had any energon or recharge since before the fight and for several orns afterward he had sat at his desk doing reports. Still sitting comfortably in his chair, he was now leaning across his desk. His helm resting against the solid surface, his arms resting on either side of his head. He hadn't even onlined his optics yet and his systems were already sending him warnings his energy reserves were almost dangerously low, and Prowl was feeling it.

He was weak and still sore all over, his internal repair systems had been hard at work fixing all the minor damage he had sustained in the fight. Well, ok, so it may have been more than a little minor damage but Prowl didn't want to lay in a med bay berth for orns. Despite low energy, recharge would be good for him….so what had brought him online?

Then Prowl felt it, fingers tracing lightly over his shoulders then down his back, then up again. Fingers softly teasing along his doorwing joints making black and white shiver a little. The fingers gently journeyed up to Prowl's neck, massaging the pliable metal skin for a moment before tracing down again to his doorwings. The hands lightly grasped the top edges and teasingly caressed their length.

Prowl moaned quietly, giving himself over to the sensations. Oh, it felt so good when Jazz did that. The hands caressed over the edges, fingers splaying along the broad side of his door panels, caressing in toward the hinge joints, a thumb pressed lightly in each joint caressing downward. Prowl curled his hands into weak fists, pressed his face into the surface of his desk, moaning, arching his back into the caress.

Primus, Jazz was good at this. But why was Jazz being so quiet? Jazz was usually much more vocal. Jazz liked to talk. Jazz -

Everything suddenly came to a screeching halt in Prowls processor.

Jazz was in med bay…offlined and would remain offline until Ratchet could fix his torn knee and shoulder joints and that would take at least a cycle or two. Jazz was in the med bay…..so who the frag was touching him? The only other name that came to his processor was Ironhide, but he too was in the med bay having taken a few too many hits in battle.

Jazz and Ironhide were both in the med bay, the only two bots Prowl could think of who would try to touch him this way. Fear and panic surfaced in Prowl's processor as the hands caressed down the tops of his doorwings to gently began to caress the joints again.

Primus almighty..…who was touching him!

Prowl onlined his optics and was met with darkness. His office lights were off and so were the monitors. It was pitch black. Prowl moved to sit up in his chair but was stopped by a hand on his helm and he was gently forced back into the position he'd been in, his head, chest, and shoulders laying against the surface of the desk. Prowl gave a weak struggle, raising a shaky unsteady hand to try and pry the hand that rested on his helm off. But the mech used his free hand to gently but firmly press Prowl's hand and arm back onto the desk.

Why…why had he insisted he work without refueling? If he had refueled he'd be nowhere near this weak. And he wouldn't be in the position he now found himself in. Frag it all, he couldn't believe he'd been so stupid as to put himself in such a vulnerable state. But then again, he was suppose to be safe, surround by friends.

Who was this?

His already weak struggles began to subside and a sickening dread crawled under his plating. The mech holding him down must have noticed some of his distress as he leaned onto Prowl's back some, bending over him, and softly hushed him. The thumb of the hand holding his head down began to lightly caress his cheek. The voice sounded familiar but he couldn't place it, it could be any mech, he needed an actual word or two to pinpoint someone. The mach straightened again and with Prowl's struggles now ceased, the hand that had held him down now caressed over his helm to the back of his neck, fingers once again teasing seeking out and teasing doorwing joints.

No...no...

* * *

**To Those Who Missed**

**(J/P, Blaster, Ironhide. This is an angsty piece. Blaster wishes Jazz (who at this point in time does out rank him AND while they are friends, aren't as close of friends as they will be in the future) would notice him. And Ironhide, once again, sits in the background wishing he could trade places with Jazz. I still have this soft spot for Ironhide/Prowl...)**

Blaster sauntered into the rec room, stretching stiff joints as he did. Primus, that had been a long shift. He need some energon bad and not the regular kind. He gave the rec area a quick glance. He was surprised to see the Second in Command working over a data pad with several other data pads scattered on the table. It was fairly late and hardly anyone around, perhaps it was a habit of his to come here to work or unwind, well, unwind as much as the Second in Command would allow himself to anyway. That mech was always tense. Looking around further, Blaster could see that Ironhide was also there, tucked away in a booth toward a corner of the room. Blaster walked toward the energon despensers, greeting Prowl as he approached him.

"Evening, Sir".

Prowl glanced briefly at him. "Good evening, Blaster."

Blaster grinned down at him. "Didn't know you were one to enjoy working in the rec room."

"I don't. Sideswipe thought it would be cute to prank me. Wheeljack is currently on task trying to remove all of a sticky substance from my desk and chairs."

Blaster let out a small chuckle. "How do ya know it was Sideswipe?"

"Because when I came back to my office, he was stuck to my desk. Aparently, he thought he heard me coming down the hall and in his haste to vacate my office he tripped and landed on my desk."

Blaster openly laughed. "That mech is crazy!"

Prowl continued to work. "Hmm, indeed".

Blaster walked on to the despensers, still chuckling over the thought of Prowl walking into his office with Sideswipe stuck to his desk, that mech never learned. And Prowl, wow, he'd never seen a mech with less of a sense of humor. Did he know how to laugh? Slag, could the mech even smile. Blaster had his doubts.

Snagging a good sized cube of high grade, Blaster looked to sit down. No way he was sittin' with Prowl and a glace at Ironhide's face as he sat in his corner told Blaster he wouldn't be too welcomed there. So, Blaster opped to sit at a table by himself. Despite the lack of company, it felt good to just sit back and enjoy some high grade. After about a third of the cube, Blaster lounged back against the chair more, one arm slung over the top, his optics dimmed, and he let his thoughts wonder.

And his thoughts inevitably wondered to and remained on a certain black and white mech. One very sleek, graceful, charming, and wild mech. Jazz. Blaster felt himself grin just at the thought of him. What it would be like to be in a room alone with him. To have all of Jazz's attention all to himself. To have Jazz wanting him, touching him, kissing him. To have Jazz invite Blaster into his berth. The very thought had Blaster heating up.

Blaster had just let his thoughts drift to what Jazz would be like in the berth, when the very object of his fantasies walked through the rec room door. Blaster sat straight up. He looked down at himself quickly. Slag, slag, slag, why hadn't he stopped by the wash racks on his way here. In no way did he look filthy but he could have looked better. Slag! Still, he wasn't going to let that stop him from hopefully having a drink with Jazz.

Blaster put on his best grin as Jazz went to walk by his table. "Good evening, Sir!"

Jazz grinned and inclined his head toward him and gave him a soft, "Evenin'" and continued on. Blaster turned and watched as Jazz walked toward the despensers. He decided he'd wait till Jazz had his drink in hand then he'd invite him to sit down and join him.

Blaster watched as Jazz suddenly deviated from the direction of the dispensers and went around the table Prowl was sitting at. Walking up behind the Second in Command, he watched as Jazz suddenly drapped himself over Prowl's back. Blaster's smile disappearing completely when Jazz slid his arms over Prowl's shoulders and crossed them, hugging Prowl to him. The whole time Prowl seemed to ignore him, continuing to work. Jazz nuzzled at Prowls audio, whispering to him. Whatever he said made the tactician look up toward Jazz. And as Prowl turned his head, Jazz leaned in and placed a kiss on the corner of Prowl's frowning mouth.

"Jazz! We are in the rec room! This is a public area!"

Blaster could clearly here the disapproval and reprimand in the tactician's voice. But Jazz just snickered. "So, ain't no one here."

That cut through Blaster. _I'm here! I'm here, you saw me! Please say you saw me…_

Jazz leaned in and kissed Prowl's neck despite the glare Prowl was sending Jazz's way.

"Jazz! I'm not telling you again!" Prowl practically hissed at him. But Jazz just chuckled and went back to nuzzling Prowl's audio again, whispering to him. Prowl gave an exasperated sigh and started collecting all his data pads from the table as Jazz removed himself from the tactician's back, his grin seeming to grow. Prowl stood and looked at Jazz, who flashed him a smile that could light up a room. Prowl's face, however, remained blank and emotionless.

It was beyond Blaster's comprehension. Why would Jazz be in any kind of relationship with a mech like Prowl? They walked toward the door together, passing Blaster. If one of them would have noticed Blaster, it would have been Prowl since Jazz was too busy beeming a beautiful smile at Prowl to noticed anything. Blaster was in disbelief, how could Jazz be so taken with a mech who seemed to pretty much ignore him. He watched them leave, unable to wrap his processor around it. He shook his head staring at the empty doorway,

"Slag, he deserves so much better than that."

"Yer right." Blaster jumped at the voice and looked up at the tall red mech who suddenly appeared at his side, a look of sour distaste played on his face. "He does deserve better."

It's all of what he said but how he said it. Blaster gave him a confused look. "How do you mean -" but Ironhide walked away, out the rec room door, leaving Blaster confused over the older mech's cryptic meaning.

* * *

**To Do What's Right Can Be So Hard**

**(Ironhide/Prowl This angsty little piece was planned to go into a story but never got fit in. Maybe it will be one day but for now, it goes here.)**

Prowl rounded a corner, stumbled a bit, before falling against the wall. He pressed a hand to his head. He was more than a little over charged, he was very over charged. What the frell did the twins put in their high grade mixes? Prowl tried to focus on the corridor before him, silently grateful there were no other bots around. For them to see their SIC in such a state would be shameful. On the other hand, Prowl found himself wishing he had asked Jazz to join him….at least Jazz could have helped hold him up. Prowl resorted to using the wall to steady himself and walked a few steps.

"Prowl?"

Prowl stopped, leaned back against the wall, and gazed in the direction his name had been called from. His optics refused to focus correctly and he could only see a tall blurred red figure coming toward him.

Sideswipe?

"Prowl? Yah ok?"

No, not Sideswipe, Iornhide. The accent and the closer he came to Prowl, and therefore the more in focus he became, confirmed that is was indeed Ironhide and he had a worried expression on his face.

"Yeahsss, Ironnn…hide. I'm jussss fine…fine."

Slag, that sounded slurred and choppy even to Prowl's over charged audials. Ironhide raised an optic ridge at that.

"Okay…..would ya like some help back to yer quarters, Prowl? Ya' seem a little….unsteady"

Prowl stared at him for a long moment. "Yes."

Ironhide nodded, "Come on, Prowl"

The larger mech gently grabbed Prowl under his arm and pulled him away from the wall. Prowl stumbled some then steadied himself. Ironhide began to slowly walk him in the direction of his quarters, Prowl swaying and stumbling with every step. Even stumbled enough he crashed into Ironhide. Wrapping an arm around Prowl's waist, Ironhide held Prowl to his side, steadying him.

"Ssssorrry."

"Don' worry bout it, Prowl." Ironhide glaced down at Prowl. "What exactally did ya drink? Normal high grade we got ain' gonna do this to ya."

"Sssidesswipe gave…me ssome of his own…own brew"

"Say no more, Prowl, I understand. Ya gotta be careful with that stuff, it'll knock a bot out."

"I didn't….think anything of it. Jazz was drinking it fine -"

"Yeah, well, that's Jazz."

Prowl looked up at Ironhide. "You…you don't like Jazz."

Ironhide looked down at Prowl then forward again. "There are things about Jazz I don' like"

Prowl frowned at that. "He'sss a good mech-"

"I'm sure he is, Prowl"

They walked in silence for a few moments.

"What don't you like-"

"Don' worry about it, Prowl. It's not important."

Prowl was beginning to really sag against Ironhide now. When they reached Prowls quarters, Prowl stared at the key pad like he'd never seen it before. It took four tries but he finally remembered the right code. The door slid open and Ironhide almost had to carry the SIC in. Prowl was leaning his full weight against the weapons specialist and could hardly walk. His blue optics where barely online. He tried to move with Ironhide but couldn't. Then everything went black.

Ironhide felt Prowl slump heavily against him and managed to catch him before he slid to the floor. Gathering Prowl in his arms, he carried the lighter mech further into his quarters, the door sliding shut behind them. He gently lay Prowl down on the berth, arranging him so his doorwings would lay flat so he would be comfortable. Ironhide sat on the edge of the berth and looked down at him.

Poor Prowl.

Fragging Jazz. Why didn't he stop Prowl from drinking so much of Sideswipe's brew? He shouldn't have let this happen.

Ironhide wouldn't have let this happen.

He reached out and softly trailed a finger down Prowl's cheek. He watched Prowl's face but there was no response. Ironhide leaned over Prowl, bracing himself on one hand, he used his other to continue his exploration. He caressed down that smooth cheek again, playing his finger tips lightly across Prowl's lips, caressing up that white helm to his chevron. He caressed the broad side of the bright red metal with his thumb in firm strokes.

Prowl let out a soft moan.

Ironhide stopped.

"Prowl?" Ironhide whispered to him.

No response.

"Prowl? Are yah awake?"

Prowl's optics remained off and he made no movement. Ironhide carefully and gently slide his arm under and around Prowl's shoulders, lifting him up off the berth. Prowl's head fell back to rest against his forearm. He carefully pulled Prowl toward his chest.

"Prowl?" Ironhide leaned in till he was a breath away from Prowl's face. "Prowl? It's me. Ironhide".

He got no response. Ironhide held him tighter and brought up his other hand to cup and caress the side of Prowl's face and helm. Ironhide's optics roamed over that beautiful, youthful face a moment more before he dipped his head and placed a soft chaste kiss on Prowl's lips.

Breaking the kiss, he curled around the mech in his arms, kissing softly up Prowl's shoulder. He just wanted to lay Prowl back and slip onto the berth with him. He kissed up to Prowl's neck, caressing the soft malleable metal skin there with his glossa.

"Jazz..." Prowl moaned the name softly.

Ironhide stopped cold.

That was not the name he wanted to here from the lips of the mech he was kissing. Jazz wasn't even in the fragging room and he still managed to irritate him! He gently lowered Prowl back down on the berth, disentangled his arms, then leaned forward and rested his head against Prowl's shoulder.

It wasn't fair.

For one dark moment, Ironhide actually wished Jazz wouldn't make it back from a mission. And once the thought crossed his processor he quashed it, immediately feeling guilty and selfish. Jazz and his teams had helped out the Autobots and himself in many times. Jazz was an important member. He had soo much; he had his position, his own branch of operations to lead, he had valuable skills, he had a friendly personality, a good sense of humor, an ability to boost morale just by talking to mechs, he had Prime's unwavering trust.

Slag it all, did he have to have Prowl too?

He clutched the slighter frame to him, a hand gliding down the white helm. "Please, Prowl, please say my name. Ironhide. Just once. Just one time."

His larger hand reached out and finally, finally, touched a coveted doorwing. Blunt fingertips moving carefully across the surface before pressing flat, stroking firmly along the glossy panel, earning him a delicious whimper. A small smile pulled at his lips. He brought his hand back, running fingertips along the doorwing joint.

Prowl moan, arching slightly into the touch. "Jazz..."

Ironhide froze. His optics squeezed shut as he pressed his face into a white shoulder, lips trembling, gritting his dentea as his hands curled into fists. Collecting himself, he pulled away, carefully laying Prowl down.

"I'm sorry." He whispered the choked apology as he stood, adding distance to temptation. "I'm sorry...I..." His gaze still continued to drink in the beautiful form lying on the berth. So welcoming.

But not his.

Never his.

He turned, quickly exiting the room, locking the door behind him.

* * *

Author's notes

I told you there was a lot in this one! Hope no one got bored. :)

Reading and reviewing is always loved. And if you have any ideas or want to grab one and run with it, let me know!


End file.
